Heat
by MoulinP
Summary: The first chapter was originally written as a challenge. Heyes goes to extraordinary lengths to prove to the Gang why they shouldn't do a much talked about job.
1. Chapter 1

Heat

The Kid picked up the coffee pot and poured.

"Heyes, d'ya want some coffee?"

No answer.

The Kid looked round. Heyes was sitting at the table deeply engrossed in a book propped up in front of him. There was a big stack of other books at his elbow and there were several more on the table, face down and open at various places. Every now and then, he scribbling on a pad.

"Heyes?"

A grunt.

"D'ya want some coffee?" the Kid asked louder.

Another grunt.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

Ambiguous grunt.

The Kid rolled his eyes. "Okay," he sighed. "Try this. One grunt for yes, two grunts for no."

Different noise, one of discovery.

The Kid replaced the coffee pot. "I give up." He shook his head and walked passed the studious Heyes to the door. "I'm goin' over to the bunkhouse. Play poker with the boys. Wanna come?"

"Awh, mmmm, er? Oh. No coffee for me," mumbled Heyes.

The Kid backed out of the door with his eyes wide and left the cabin.

After a lively evening in the bunkhouse with the boys, drinking whiskey and playing cards, the Kid weaved his way back to the leader's cabin in the early hours. As he clattered in, he was surprised to see Heyes sitting at the table exactly where he'd left him.

"You ain't still sittin' there are ya?" he asked slurringly obvious.

"Must look like it."

"What ya doin'?" The Kid came and swayed next to the table. He leant over to peer at the book, releasing noxious breath over Heyes.

"Aggh! Go away!" Heyes flicked him away. "How much ya had to drink? An' you've been smoking those cigars Wheat's brother sent at Christmas!" Heyes fanned his face in disgust.

"S'nothin' wrong with 'em," the Kid protested.

"Nothing right with 'em either!"

"C'mon, let me see what ya doing." The Kid picked up a book, held the spine facing him and then at arm's length trying to focus on the title. "Me … met …" A blink and more swaying. "Met …al … ur … gy. Meta … lur …gy!"

"Yes. Metallurgy." Heyes took the book back smoothly as it was about to fall from the hands of the rapidly spiralling Kid, who collapsed awkwardly into an easy chair.

"What's it 'bout?" the Kid asked, apparently unaware that he was no longer on his feet.

Heyes gave him a look of disdain and didn't answer.

"What's it 'bout?" The Kid was louder.

"It's a part of science concerned with the properties of metal and its production."

The Kid grunted. "Not much of a plot."

Heyes rolled his eyes and shook his head. He looked at his work, sadly. He hated needless interruptions. He was on to something. He knew it. By the time, he looked back at the Kid, that man was asleep with his head on his hand.

Heyes sighed, smacked his lips and got up. From the Kid's bedroom, he retrieved the quilt from his bed and draped it over him.

The next morning, the Kid woke with a hangover the size of Texas, a mouth like a dried up river bed and stiff from sleeping in the chair all night. He moved his legs gingerly and pushed back the quilt. The room was empty although the table was still full of whatever Heyes was doing. Groaning the Kid got up, stretched the kinks out of his back and headed for his room. On the way, he passed the open door of Heyes' room. Heyes wasn't there either. The Kid shrugged and collapsed on his bed fully clothed. He was asleep again in moments.

Meanwhile Heyes was poking around in the old disused blacksmith shed. The forge inside hadn't been used for years and the shed had become the Gang's unofficial dumping ground. Heyes was clearing a path so he could look at the forge. Anything in his way was flying out of the door behind him.

Across the yard, Wheat stood on the bunkhouse porch, watching. The noise of clanging, thudding, clinking etc. soon attracted the rest of the Gang to join him.

"What in tarnation is goin' on?" Lobo asked, struggling out of the door, pulling his suspenders over his Henley.

"We under attack?" Tate cried, still in his long johns but gun in hand.

"Nah! By the looks of it I'd say Heyes is spring cleanin'," Wheat sniffed.

"Sheesh! He's 'bout two months early," said Kyle, hitching his pants.

An odd collection of items was beginning to accumulate in the yard. A campanology set with the smallest hand bell missing, old newspapers, boxes, tins of paint (really?), a broken window frame, a three legged chair, and loose bedsprings. The last causing howls of laughter from the bystanders as Heyes scooted after them as they bounced away from him. Before finally juggling them into obedience. A baby carriage (why?) flew to the top of the rapidly growing pile. Half a stagecoach wheel (again why?) followed it. The dead plant called Terry that Kyle had lovingly nurtured until finally forgetting to water. Heyes heaved out twelve crates of empty whiskey bottles, false smiled at his audience, gave them a hard look and disappeared inside again.

"Think he wants us to help?" Kyle asked uncertainly.

Wheat leaned back against the bunkhouse wall and folded his arms.

"Nah! He's enjoyin' himself. We'd jus' be spoilin' his fun if'n we went an' helped out. Oh! So that's where that went." Wheat crossed the yard quickly and retrieved a broken broom handle, complete with brush head. He returned with one in each hand. "S'good broom this. Only had two new handles and four new heads," he mused, looking to reunite them.

Much later ….

A now sweaty, grimy and out of breath Heyes reached where he wanted to be. He stood hands on hips and puffed as he considered. The buried forge was not in as bad a condition as he thought it might be. Perhaps all the detritus he had hefted out of the way had actually protected it.

The fire hearth stood in the centre of the wooden building, the brick built chimney rising above it. A set of large double doors stood closed and barred opposite the yard door. In front of the hearth still stood the anvil, tongs and hammers ready for use. To one side was a bench, yet to be uncovered, but likely containing other blacksmithing tools. Heyes leant over and peered up the chimney. Yep he could just make out daylight but no doubt, the chimney would need a good sweep before use. He straightened up coughing from inhaling the old coal dust, smearing some over his cheek. He contemplated the hearth once more, gave a deep sigh and inadvertently rubbing more coal dust over his chin as he continued his contemplation.

"I reckon that'll do," he muttered and strolled outside purposefully.

To find the Gang had made themselves comfortable on the bunkhouse porch, reclining in chairs in the sun.

"Ain't ya got anything to do?" Heyes asked, irritably.

"Nope," smirked Wheat, seeing Heyes' blackened state. "We've been watchin' the entertainment."

The boys sniggered.

Knowing he was the recipient of their mirth, he gave them his best Hannibal Heyes look. "Well get this … ." What could he call it? "Jus' tidy up!" He waved a hand over the pile and stalked off back to the leader's cabin. Suddenly he turned. "An' DON'T put it back in there!" He pointed at the shed.

Back in the Land of Nod, the Kid was blissfully unaware his slumbers were about to be interrupted. When Heyes discovered just how filthy he was when he smeared coal dust over his books. Muttering curses, he pumped water into the sink and washed his hands.

The Kid lay where he was, listening. Did he get up and enquire? Would it be best to lay where he was until Heyes went out again? Finally, curiosity got the better of him. With a grunt, he got up. He staggered to the door and poked his head round.

"D'ya mind keeping it down out there? Some folks are trying to sleep!"

Heyes spun round, wiping coal dust over a towel. He grunted at seeing it. He hadn't done such a good job of washing up as he thought.

"Ah! Sleeping Beauty awakes! I was 'bout to send Kyle inta kiss ya!" Heyes chortled at his little joke. In reply, he received the look.

The Kid came closer and peered at Heyes.

"What's that on ya face?"

"What? Where?" Heyes went to the mirror above the fireplace. "Ah!" He scrubbed at this face with the towel. "I've been busy while ya been sleeping. Clearing out the old blacksmith shed."

"Why?" The Kid was immediately suspicious. When Heyes got an idea, it usually only meant one thing. Work for him.

"Figgered I might use it."

"For what?"

Heyes twitched his head. "Ah, well, I ain't ready to say but if this works then …" Smug grin. "We might jus' be able to retire!"

The Kid pulled a face. He'd heard that one before. He waved a hand dismissively and turned back to his bedroom.

"When ya ready to tell me, I'll be in here sleepin'."

Heyes spent the rest of day in the blacksmith shed making lists. The next morning the Kid found him atop a buckboard heading out.

"Where are you goin'?" he demanded.

"Into Rawlins. I've got things to get."

"Into Rawlins? You can't get what ya gotta get in Burton Wells?" Burton Wells was the nearest town to the Hole and the Gang members known there. They had an unofficial agreement. As long as they didn't cause trouble they were free to walk the streets. The bigger town of Rawlins further away was a different matter. The proximity to a gang of notorious outlaws made folks suspicious and the Gang rarely ventured there.

"Nope but I reckon I can in Rawlins."

The Kid looked at him in silence for a moment. "Want me to come along? Watch ya back?"

Heyes considered and then shook his head. "Nope the two of us together might jus' make the folks of Rawlins suspicious. This is too important and I've gotta job to do. I'll be a day or two. If I ain't back say in …" He pursed his lips. "… two days, come looking for me."

The Kid sighed doubtfully. "Alright Heyes have it your way. I think ya makin' a mistake goin' into Rawlins but … it's your neck."

"Trust me, Kid. I know what I'm doing," Heyes assured him and twitched the reins. "See ya, Kid."

As Heyes trundled away, Wheat stepped onto the porch of the leader's cabin beside the Kid.

"Where's he goin'?"

"Sheesh!" The Kid shook his head. "Rawlins he said. He's got some plan brewin'."

Wheat looked at him in alarm. "I'll tell the boys. If we light out now we'll be gone by the time he gets back." He started for the bunkhouse.

The Kid stopped him.

"Now Wheat ya ain't goin' nowhere. You dunno what it is yet."

"Yeah Kid, that's what worries me! You'll head out too if ya take my advice."

"I ain't gonna run out on my partner. I know he's a little weird at times but he comes through eventually. Jus' have a little patience."

Wheat rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. "Yeah," he admitted begrudgingly. "But ya gotta admit, Kid. He's had us doin' some pretty dumb things. We's serious outlaws! We've gotta reputation to think of!"

"Jus' wait 'till Heyes gets back an' then hear him out."

Heyes was back in two days with a heavily laden buckboard, the contents of mysterious lumps and bumps protected by a tarpaulin. As he came to rest in the middle of the yard, the Gang came out to greet him. Heyes applied the brake with a sigh and climbed down. He was stretching his back with a grimace as they approached him, eyeing the buckboard warily.

"Howdy Heyes," Kyle greeted with a grin.

"Kyle," Heyes acknowledged, starting to untie the tarpaulin.

"What ya got there, Heyes?" Kyle was curious to see what was underneath.

"Equipment, Kyle," Heyes said, brightly, throwing back the cover. "Give a hand, fellas. Put it in the blacksmith shed."

Heyes walked round the end of the buckboard and up to the Kid. He stood and grinned knowingly, as he stripped off his gloves. The Kid regarded him, warily. He was also unimpressed.

"I'm back." Heyes waved his hand in front of the Kid's face.

"So I can see. What …?" The Kid watched in disbelief, at the things the Gang were unloading. Bellows, large scissor tongs, something that looked like a big beaker, strips of metal – he didn't know what, leather aprons and gauntlets, sacks of charcoal. Wheat had a leather visor in his hand. He was looking at it suspiciously.

"We's going on hold-ups in disguise now?"

Heyes rolled his eyes and pointed to the shed. Kyle followed struggling to hold together chimney-sweeping equipment. Heyes smiled as he watched the diminutive man juggle his way to the shed. Shaking his head, he looked back at the Kid.

"D'ya wanna tell me what this is all 'bout now?"

"Nope."

Heyes set off for the leader's cabin. The Kid rolled his eyes and stalked after him.

The next morning found the Gang in the blacksmith shed.

"First thing we've gotta do is sweep the chimney. I've got these here brushes to do the job. Now I need a couple of ya outside to tell me when ya sees it coming outta the top of the chimney." Lobo and Preacher, sensing the easier job, scrambled to see who could get outside the fastest.

Heyes shook his head and shuddered.

"Er Heyes I dunno how to break it to ya but I reckon ya have a problem," Wheat said.

Heyes spun round.

"What's that, Wheat?"

Wheat was standing by the side of the chimney holding the rod with the brush on the end up against the flue.

"No way that's gonna reach right to the top." Wheat chortled. Sure did feel good to get one over on Hannibal Heyes.

Heyes looked at him knowingly. "Well now Wheat that's jus' where ya're wrong. It'll do the job just fine." Heyes widened his eyes as Wheat's face crumpled with incomprehension. "Until recently, in London and the big cities back East, raggedy boys were sent up with a brush." He spun round. "There ya go Kyle your big moment." Heyes looked innocently at the Gang's answer to a raggedy boy.

"I ain't going up there!" Kyle protested, hitching his pants. He looked from Heyes to Wheat then to the Kid. All three looked serious. "I ain't," he added, still unsure.

"C'mon Kyle I'll give ya a boast," Wheat said, holding his hands ready to provide the lift.

With a swallow, Kyle started to move forward. Suddenly, Heyes broke into a broad grin; the Kid smiled and shook his head, while Wheat chortled. Heyes slapped Kyle on the shoulder.

"Ya mean ya weren't really gonna send me up there?"

"Naw! You'd of only got stuck an' we'd havta leave ya there." Heyes strolled away leaving Kyle to swallow hard. He wasn't sure Heyes was entirely joking.

"This is how these work." Heyes screwed two of the rods together and then added the one with the brush on the end. "This goes up the chimney and ya keep adding more rods to the end as ya push it up until the brush comes out the top." Heyes looked round at his companions. None looked convinced. "Well let's give it a whirl huh fellas?" he said, irritably.

Grumbling.

"Heyes this had better be worth it," the Kid said, passing Heyes another rod.

"Trust me, Kid. Have I ever let ya down?" Heyes straightened, holding his hands out wide.

The Kid gave him the look.

"Jus' keep screwing the rods together and shoving it up the chimney. I'll go check on the boys outside." With a faint smile on his face, Heyes disappeared.

"Still time to light out Kid," Wheat murmured as together they forced the rods up the chimney. The Kid just grunted ambiguously.

"Sheesh! Kid, what's with all the smoke?" Wheat coughed as he walked into the leader's cabin two days later. The Kid and Preacher were at the table sharing a bottle of whiskey.

"Mebbe we got ourselves a new Pope?" Preacher slurred, and hiccupped.

The Kid ignored him as Wheat closed the door and came further in.

"Kid, me an' the boys hav' been talkin' an' ya gotta talk to him. I mean this is getting' outta hand. It's been two days now. All this smoke an' secrecy. Ain't natural."

"He won't tell me what he's doin' Wheat. Ya seen the sign!"

On the door of the blacksmith shed was a No Entry Sign. It had been two days since Heyes had holed himself up in there. Apart from the occasional sound of hammering and other odd noises, the only sign that Heyes was still alive were the emanations from the chimney. The plumes of smoke had varied in their color and density. This morning's variety was the thickest and most cough making yet.

"I'm tellin' ya Kid, ya gotta talk to him else me an' the boys … ."

"What makes you think I can talk to him?" the Kid protested.

"Well you's Kid Curry. You could shoot him or somethin'."

"I ain't shooting my partner!"

Wheat sniffed and shrugged. "Well I's only meant a little bit. In the leg or somethin' …" Wheat looked hopeful. "Jus' enough to … you know …"

The Kid scrapped back his chair suddenly, forcing Wheat to take a step back quickly.

"Okay, Wheat." The Kid was ominously low as he reached from his hat. "I'll go talk to him. Tell him how you all feel." He settled his hat on his head. "I'll risk getting' it in the neck for ya but …" The Kid said, menacingly close to Wheat. "I'm tellin' ya …" The legendary trigger finger jabbed itself into Wheat's shoulder. "… whatever he's doin' in there is a plan an' he's workin' it out. We jus' need to give him more time."

Wheat swallowed and reluctantly nodded.

"'Ppreciate ya goin' in there Kid. On behalf of the boys an' all."

The Kid gave him a final look and went.

"Sheesh!" Wheat relaxed when he'd gone. "For a moment there I didn't think he was goin'."

"The Good Lord works in mysterious way," opined Preacher.

Wheat snatched up the bottle of whiskey and took a gulp.

"Yeah and so does Heyes!"

The Kid thought it only polite that he knock on the door first. When there was no answer, he raised the catch. To his surprise, the door opened. He stuck his head cautiously inside and instantly met a wall of heat so fierce it almost singed his eyebrows.

"Sheesh! Heyes."

Heyes was standing in front of the fire and looked round. A wide grin spread across his face.

"Ah, Kid! Was jus' comin' to get ya."

"You were?" The Kid came in slowly. The fact that the Kid had violated the No Entry sign without any recriminations was ominous. The Kid proceeded in with caution.

The double doors were open but the heat inside was still unbearable. Heyes was down to his underwear, now black with soot. Over the top, he wore a large leather apron. He beckoned the Kid in further.

"Ya jus' in time."

"Yeah? Jus' in time for what?"

"I need a hand. Grab a pair of those gauntlets. Oh an' ya might wanna lose the gun. It's kinda hot in here an' if that heats up … ." He winced and shook his head.

The Kid hesitated but he had seen the look in Heyes' eye. This was no time to be arguing or questioning. He knew from experience it was easier to just go along with what Heyes asked. He'd find out later what it was all about. He reached down and untied the thong from his leg.

"Yeah, why is it so hot in here?"

"Ah it's gotta be the right heat or it won't work," Heyes nodded. He stood hands on hips and didn't seem worried by the heat, wasn't even sweating. Not like the Kid was beginning to.

"What won't?"

"Fusion."

"'Course." The Kid false smiled at him and shuddered. No idea!

He put his gun belt out of harm's way and put his hat on top for good measure.

"I'll explain all in good time but jus' do as I ask for now. Here." Heyes threw him another leather apron. "Best put that on as well."

With a look, the Kid donned the apron and pulled the gauntlets on. Heyes was poking the fire with a metal rod.

"I reckon this is jus' 'bout hot enough to give it a try."

As the Kid watched, Heyes picked up a strip of reddish metal and dropped it into the big beaker. Using tongs, he positioned this in the fire.

"What's that?"

"It's a crucible. For melting metal."

The Kid gave a nondescript sound.

Heyes pulled on the leather visor and leaned over, watching the metal he had dropped in begin to melt. With a nod of satisfaction, he took a different coloured strip of metal and pushed it towards the fire but not in it.

"Here's what I'm gonna do …" With a small laugh, he raised the visor so the Kid could now hear him. "When the metal in the crucible has melted, I'm gonna raise the temperature of the fire …"

"Raise it! Sheesh!" The Kid wiped the sweat dripping from his forehead with his forearm.

"Yeah," Heyes said patiently. "Jus' a little more. Then I'm gonna drop this other strip into the crucible. It'll melt real quick. Then I'll give it a stir and then we …"

"We?"

"Yeah, you an' me are gonna get hold of the crucible with these here two handed scissor tongs and WE'RE gonna pour the contents into the mold I prepared earlier. Simple huh?" Smug grin.

The Kid looked doubtful but didn't get a chance to say anything further as Heyes leapt into action. Before the Kid knew it he was on the other end of the scissor tongs and under Heyes' instruction. Together they poured the contents of the crucible into the mold.

"Now what?"

Suddenly exhausted, Heyes sat heavily on a stool.

"Now we wait for it to cool 'afore I can tell if it worked." Wearily he took off the visor and stripped off his gloves. "Boy, the heat in here," he sighed and puffed.

The next evening, a bathed and refreshed Heyes slipped through the door of the bunkhouse. Seeing the Gang and the Kid playing cards, the smug grin appeared. Hiding something inside his blue/grey coat, he walked over.

"Heyes, you coming to join us?" the Kid asked with a smile. His partner looked a lot better than the last time he had seen him. So tired he had collapsed onto his bed as he was and immediately went to sleep. The Kid had draped a blanket over him and left him.

"Not exactly. I've got something to show ya."

The Gang looked up curiously and then down on the table where Heyes deposited the something.

Mouths dropped open as they all stared at the yellow, shiny object.

"Is that?"

"Naw …?"

"You've made …?"

"That's not …?"

"Heyes tell me you haven't …?"

All eyes looked up at their leader, standing hands on hips, grinning broadly.

Suddenly the cabin plunges into complete darkness.

Cries of panic are heard. "Hey! What's goin' on?"

One by one, pairs of eyes begin to appear in the blackness.

"Sorry fellas," We hear Heyes' voice. "I can't tell you right now."

"Why not?" the Kid demanded.


	2. Chapter 2

Heat Part Two

Suddenly the bunkhouse was in light. Eyes blink.

"Dunno. I jus' felt I had to say it." Heyes frowned and shook his head. "Weird." Then he shrugged. "Don't matter none. An' naw, I haven't." Heyes was smiling enigmatically. "But I did tell ya we could retire!"

More blank looks and Heyes pulled a lop-sided face.

"T'aint gold, fellas. It's Pinchbeck."

"Huh?"

"Sure looks like gold."

"What's Pinchbeck?"

"Well." Heyes unbuttoned his coat, took of his hat and drew up a chair. The card game forgotten now in anticipation of an explanation. "Pinchbeck is a fake gold. It was invented last century by an Englishman who spotted there was a market for jewellery that looked like gold but wasn't. At the time, the only grade gold sold in was 18 or 22 karats. So he worked on making an alloy …" He smacked his lips at the blank faces. "It's a mixture of metals … until he got the proportions right so that it looked like gold."

"So what is this made of?" the Kid asked. He pointed at the ingot.

"It's made of copper and zinc. Christopher Pinchbeck, the man who invented it, kept the exact proportions a secret. But I done some readin' an' I reckon I figured out what they were. Not bad huh? Had you all fooled."

The Kid pursed his lips. He was impressed. He picked up the "gold" ingot.

"It's a lot lighter than gold." He was able to bounce it in one hand, and then passed it round so they could all feel the weight.

Heyes grinned. "Yep. An' that's the beauty of it, Kid. Means we only have heavy hauling in one direction. The direction that counts!" He widened his eyes and nodded eagerly.

"That's interesting Heyes but …," the Kid began.

Wheat sniffed and leaned back. "Well that's increased my already extensive education. Ain't it yours Kyle?" Wheat asked, looking at the smaller man.

Heyes rolled his eyes.

"Heyes, what ya leadin' up to?" the Kid asked. He knew there was more.

"Glad ya asked that question, Kid." Heyes paused and took a sip of whiskey. Suddenly he was serious. "Y'know that job …? The one we always consider … an' then …" He looked round at the Gang and swallowed. He took a deep breath. "Well I think I've figured outta way to do it." He took a bigger gulp of whiskey.

There was silence. They all knew what job he meant. It was always talked about but then dismissed. It was too big, too difficult, needed too much planning and likely to get them all killed. A job too far, even for the famous Devil's Hole Gang.

As realisation sank in, they all began to talk at once. Heyes smacked his lips and looked away. He knew the Kid was watching him and he didn't want to meet his eye. Finally he did.

"Ya ain't serious, Heyes?" the Kid said, quietly.

The softly spoken words cut through the hubbub and it died slowly. The Gang looked from one leader to the other, waiting for the scheming one to speak. That one rubbed his chin.

"Well let me explain what I'm thinking and then we'll talk 'bout it." That was a first! All eyes paid attention. "The way I figure it, I can make enough of these "gold" bars an' if substituted for the real thing would give us enough of a haul that er …" He raised the whiskey glass to his lips and gave a lopsided grin. "… I reckon we could retire." Pause for effect. "An' if we do it right, nobody would know for days what had been taken. We'd be long gone."

"Heyes, ya gotta do a lot more talkin'." The Kid said, shaking his head.

"I know Kid. I will. I got it all figured out."

"We are talkin' 'bout the bullion train outta the Denver Mint?" Lobo queried.

Heyes nodded. "Yep."

Lobo pursed his lips and widened his eyes. "Dunno if I wanna be part of that," he said, doubtfully.

"Yeah I know. It's a big deal. Jus' hear what I've gotta say. I'll explain it to you an' if WE decide it's still too risky, we won't do it. How's that?" Heyes said, reasonably.

There was rumblings round the table, lots of looking at one another but finally they all nodded.

"Let's hear what ya gotta say," Lobo said.

"But if'n we don't like it, we ain't doing it, right?" Tate clarified.

Heyes nodded slowly. "This is a big job an' all of us'll havta be committed to the plan. It'll havta run like clockwork otherwise, it'll all fall apart. There'll be no room for error."

Heyes was serious as he looked round the table. When he was satisfied that they understood, clearing his throat he carried on.

"The official price of gold is 'bout $20 an ounce an' one of those gold bars that they pour in Denver weighs 'bout 400 ounces so … that means …" He closed one eye and looked at the ceiling "… they're worth over $8,000 dollars each."

The dimpled grin became wider by the second as he watched the (gold) penny drop around the room.

"Now we mustn't be greedy boys. Gold weighs an awful lot an' it's difficult to transport. Remember we gotta get it away."

Heyes looked round the table again and then sniffed.

"Okay. Here's how I see it going down." He swallowed and cleared his throat. "We stop the train in the usual way, logs on the line. But …" He held up a finger. "… this time it's gotta look like trees have fallen naturally."

As Heyes looked round, there were some puzzled faces. He could almost see the question mark above the heads of the usual suspects. A dimpled grin appeared. "An' I know the perfect place to pull this off."

He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a sheet of paper. He unfolded it, sweeping away the cards and chips of the forgotten game and laid the paper in front of him. He had drawn a map. The Gang shuffled their chairs closer so they could see. Heyes blinked. Suddenly it had become very cosy. He wrinkled his nose at the ominous odour that was invading his nostrils and he cleared his throat, trying not to get distracted.

"This is map of Rapina Gulch. The railroad cutting is deep and narrow an' …" Now another smug grin. "Look how it bends round. I figure if we drop some trees over the line here."

"An' that's when we strike!" Wheat grinned.

"I like it!" grinned Kyle.

Heyes shuddered. "Nope."

"No?" the Kid queried.

"Too obvious. This train is guarded don't forget. The train makes an unscheduled stop? Trees on the line?" Heyes shrugged. "Even if it looks natural? The guards are gonna be suspicious. Naw!"

Heyes tapped the map. "The end of the train is gonna be round the bend an' outta sight. An' look right here. There's a siding. I reckon we can hide a boxcar in there an' when the train stops … everyone gets out to have a look …" He leant forward, a crafty glint in his eye. "We do this at night. Ya all know how dark it gets when there's no moon or ambient light." Deep breath at the questioning faces. "City lights!" he snapped and rolled his eyes. "Why ya can't see your hand in front of ya face! I figure if it's dark enough … Everybody is round the bend clearing the line. Not too many eyes watching the back of the train … I reckon we can push the boxcar we've got concealed … hid … in the siding … ever so quiet like and couple it on the back."

Heyes looked back and watched. Not that there was a lot to watch. Apart from chins rubbing, faces pulling, deep frownings, and ear scratching.

Finally, Wheat sniffed. "Waal Heyes that's er …"

He didn't finish.

"Why'd we need a boxcar?" It was the Kid, interrupting. Wheat looked gratefully at him.

"'Cos the alternative is we all jump on the side of the train and climb up on the roof. Ain't easy to organise everyone that way. Our plans hav' gotta be flexible an' we need somewhere we can adapt them. 'Sides we need the boxcar to transport OUR gold."

The Kid pursed his lips. Made sense he supposed but …

"Push a boxcar? Push? A boxcar?" He looked incredulous.

Smug grin.

"I forgot to tell ya." Heyes leaned in again. "There's a gradient here. Train has to slow down anyways to make the bend so that it don't jump off the tracks. Once it's stopped we take the brake off our boxcar an' gravity will take care of the rest. All we have to do is make sure all the train crew are occupied with clearing the line an' the boxcar'll jus' gently kiss up to the back of the train. Where we couple it up, get in it an' off we go." Heyes looked triumphant.

"Ya make it sound so simple Heyes," the Kid said.

Heyes twitched his head. "Well I guess there's a little more to it."

The Kid rolled his eyes and motioned with his hand for Heyes to get on with it.

"Well while we're doing all that one of us …me … will be watching how many men are guarding the gold." He held up a finger. "That's important. We need to know how many men they got in the boxcar with the gold and how many men in the caboose. I figure they have three or four in each team, mebbe three teams. I reckon they'll be suspicious after the unscheduled stop so I'm proposing we go into double the guard. That way we'll only have to deal with a small number in the gold car. But I'll need to find out who the man in charge is first ' cos it'll be on his orders the guard get's doubled."

The Kid pursed his lips, thoughtful. "Supposin' they recognise we're not regular guards?"

"It'll be dark. They'll be expecting to see other guards. We'll be wearing uniforms. Not to mention hats. Once we're inside it won't matter if somebody realises that we're not part of the regular guards."

"Guess not."

Heyes could tell the Kid wasn't convinced. "And?"

"Questions …" the Kid started, meaning he had some.

"I's gotta question," said Kyle raising his hand, thinking the Kid had meant questions from the floor.

Heyes looked at him hard and then patiently nodded his head in acceptance.

"How much dynamite we gonna use?"

Heyes blinked in surprise, frowned and cleared his throat. "Weren't planning on using any, Kyle. Why? Ya got a different plan?" Beside him, Wheat sat back and folded his arms with a rueful grin. This should be interesting. The rest of the Gang obviously thought so too, judging by smirks they were giving each other.

"Jus' askin'," Kyle muttered, crestfallen.

Heyes smiled. He was fond of the little man and his willingness to help. He ought to let him down gently.

"I'm sorry Kyle but this ain't the kinda plan that needs dynamite but that don't mean that ya ain't gonna play a major part in this operation. In fact I've got a real important job for you."

Kyle brightened at hearing that.

"But I'll come to that in a moment. Now where was I?"

"Questions," the Kid said and Heyes nodded at him to continue.

"Where the blue blazes do we get a boxcar?"

Smug grin.

"Kid, hav' ya ever noticed on the way into the Hole something that looks like a shack, way ofta the right?" Heyes waved his right arm. "Afore ya get to DeadLand's Point?"

"Heyes I've usually got other things on my mind. Like avoiding the posse that's hot on our heels! Not sightseeing!"

Heyes smacked his lips. "We don't ALWAYS hav' a posse hot on our heels." Heyes false smiled at him. "Sometimes it's a slower, genteel kinda approach," he said, calmly. "Anyways ofta the right there is this thing that looks like a shed, cabin, shack, whatever ya wanna call it." He paused to gather his thoughts. "A few months ago I checked it out. D'know what it actually is?" Smug grin.

The Kid rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"It's an old boxcar!"

The Kid groaned and covered his eyes with a hand. He could guess what was coming next.

"Right there in the middle of nowhere?" Tate queried. "Don't sound possible."

"Moses found the Good Lord in the middle of nowhere," said Preacher, taking a big glug of whiskey from his own bottle. He shrugged when everyone looked at him. "Jus' sayin'."

"How'd the Devil … sorry Preacher … did it get there?" Lobo asked. Preacher's head bobbed in acceptance of the apology.

Heyes shrugged, mystified as the rest of them. "But it's complete. Got the truck an' everything."

"Yeah but is it on rails, Heyes?" the Kid demanded. "'Cos if it ain't …" He left it hanging. "How we gonna move it?"

"It's on rails!" Heyes said, irritably and gave him a look that said 'what d'ya take me for?'

"But where do the rails go?" The Kid was insistent.

Heyes hunched his shoulders and spread his hands. "They must go somewhere. Ya can't jus' have a boxcar sitting in the landscape like a … like a … piece of sculpture!"

The Kid gave an exasperated noise, got up and walked away.

Heyes took a deep breath. "I didn't say I had ALL the details worked out. I've kinda got the bigger picture that's all," he said, trying to sound calm. He looked at the Kid's back. "Jus' hear me out will ya?"

Reluctantly, the Kid came and sat down heavily, folded his arms and leant back. He motioned for Heyes to continue and he did.

"Let's assume, for one moment, that we can get this boxcar hid in the siding and coupled up in the dark ..."

"Couplin' up s'real dangerous Heyes," Lobo said, doubtfully. "Fella I grew up with. He worked on the railroad. He was killed doin' it. Real nice fella an' all."

"Yeah," Heyes nodded, thoughtfully. "An' there's different types of couplin'. Ain't all compatible. I know all that." He cleared his throat. "Jus' for now let's assume we've got it coupled up shall we?"

Lobo nodded.

"As I was sayin', once we're underway some of us make our way over the top to the caboose, knock out a few guards …" Heyes paused, seeing the Kid's raised hand.

"Heyes, these'll be trained men. We won't jus be able to knock outta a few guards. Not without a fight. There's bound to be guns involved. Some of us could get killed."

Heyes nodded and bit his bottom lip. "Yep. I need to work on the details of that part of the operation a bit more. Jus' … jus' let me carry on alright? I reckon ya need to know how I see the whole plan working. We can work out individual details later. Anymore questions?"

"Alright. We'll do it your way, Heyes. For now."

Heyes nodding. "So we're got the off duty guards in the caboose all tied up. Some of us will "borrow" their uniforms an' go and knock on the gold car, saying we're doubling the guard."

"Suppose there's passwords?"

Heyes bit his lip. "I said I ain't got all the details yet. I'm jus' putting principles to ya." He gave the Kid the look.

"Or agreed warning words?"

Another look. "Such as?" Heyes said, icily.

The Kid shrugged. "Jus' supposing' we get into the wagon where the gold is … then what?" the Kid asked.

"Trains stop for water right?"

The Kid rolled his eyes and nodded. "Yep."

"Next water stop is five miles up the line." Heyes turned the paper over and presented another map. The Gang leant in again and Heyes leant back again. "This is Imber. I figure the train'll havta stop there …"

"Supposin' it don't?" the Kid asked and received the look.

"It'll stop there. Even If'n I have to stand on the track with my hand up!" Heyes said, through gritted teeth.

The Kid nodded and smacked his lips. "Like ya say, some details hav' yet to be worked out."

Heyes took a deep breath. "Before the train has stopped we'll hav' cut a hole in the floor of the gold boxcar. That's where you come in Kyle. You're jus' the man to do that. While the train takes on water, we offload the gold through the hole in the floor. We hide our 'gold' in the middle of the pile so it ain't obvious. We replace the floor and disappear down the hole. We're away. Once the trains watered up an' gone we jus' pick up the gold from the tracks. It'll take a while for the guards to get free an' raise the alarm. We'll be long gone."

Big smug grin. Heyes looked round.

"What d'ya think?"

The room was unusually quiet as everyone looked at everyone else. Nobody wanted to be the first to speak. Finally, they all looked at the Kid.

"Awful lot of unanswered questions, Heyes," he said.

"Yep." Heyes nodded his acceptance.

"Lotta things could do wrong."

"Yep." Heyes nodded again.

"How much d'ya reckon we could get away with?"

Heyes took a deep breath as he considered. "Probably between a hundred and a hundred and fifty thousand."

Tate whistled. The others murmured and shifted in their seats. Heyes could see their unease.

"Look fellas. I told ya the plan. There's still some details to work out but I reckon we all oughta think about it. I'm convinced it's do-able but … well it's a serious job an' we've gotta be sure."

"So what ya saying Heyes?" Lobo asked.

Heyes licked his lips. "I'm asking ya to think 'bout it. Let me know in the morning. Ya can come an' tell me individually if ya like. Until then … if'n there's no questions …" Heyes scrapped back his chair and got up. "I'll leave ya to ya game."

Heyes put on his hat and left.

Heyes spent a sleepless night, lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. There were many unanswered questions. Many things could go wrong. It was dangerous. If he was being honest with himself, he had doubts. Well he had put the plan to the Gang. He had said that if they did not all agree they would not do it. He would see what they all said in the morning.

Heyes faced a frosty Kid over the breakfast table. The Kid had not said a word and Heyes was not going to ask. His partner would talk to him when he was ready.

It was Tate, who came first, coming into the leader's cabin warily.

"Wanna word with Heyes?"

The Kid nodded, clamped a piece of toast between his teeth and picked up his coffee. He nodded as he left.

Heyes indicated the vacant chair.

"Been thinking 'bout what ya put to us last night, Heyes an' I … well y'know I've got a wife and kids up Newton way?" Heyes nodded. "An' I'm only doing this temporary like so I can get us a stake?" Heyes nodded. "I don't reckon I can be part of it, Heyes. I knows ya got it all planned out an' all. I jus' can't do it!"

"It's okay Tate. I understand. This'll jus' be between me and you who'll know."

Tate gave a weak smile. "Thanks Heyes an' … I'm sorry."

Heyes returned the smile as Tate got up. "Thanks for telling me."

Tate had gone and Heyes had barely raised the coffee mug to his lips again when Lobo came in.

"Word, Heyes?"

Heyes nodded and indicated the vacant chair. Lobo ignored it.

"I'll come right out an' say it Heyes. I ain't doing it."

"Okay."

Lobo looked surprised. "It is?"

"Yep. Told ya last night everyone has to agree."

"But ya … planned it all. Near enough anyways."

Heyes shrugged. "Plans change all the time, Lobo. Said that last night."

Lobo frowned. "Yeah. Yeah ya did."

"Thanks for telling me, Lobo," Heyes smiled.

Lobo nodded and went.

Preacher was next.

"The boys told me what ya got planned, Heyes."

Heyes smiled amused. He hadn't expected Preacher to remember much about last night.

"An' what d'ya think?"

Preacher scratched his stubbled cheek. "Well I reckon it's not for us Heyes. Look around ya. These aren't ruthless men. You and the Kid aren't ruthless men. Now I ain't saying you're not smart Heyes an' the way the boys told it to me the plan has merit. But I reckon we's better'n than this. The Good Lord didn't make us ruthless and that's what this plan needs. Ruthlessness."

Heyes nodded, trying to hide his amusement at the Preacher's reasoning.

"Yeah, ya mebbe right Preacher. I ain't ruthless. I never claim to be. Thank ya for telling me how ya feel."

The two newest members (Gideon and Jack) came next. Heyes was up to his elbows in foamy water as he washed up the breakfast things. He winced. Not a good look for his image. Hannibal Heyes doing the dishes! He sighed and dried his hands. He listened carefully as they explained their reasons for not wanting to go along with it.

"Hope this don't mean that we can't still ride with ya on other jobs Heyes?" Gideon asked, nervously.

"Nope it doesn't mean that," Heyes assured him.

"We like riding with this Gang. You've all been real welcoming and understanding …" Jack tailed off.

Heyes smiled. "Don't worry about it Jack. Ya both still members … valued members of this Gang."

He saw them on their way.

Wheat came next and he didn't stand on ceremony.

"Heyes I gotta tell ya I don't reckon ya thought this one through properly. An' it's for that reason I ain't doing it." Wheat stood feet firmly planted, thumbs hooked in his gun belt.

"Okay Wheat." Heyes said quietly.

"I mean it's real risky an' we ain't never done a job that big afore …"

"Fine Wheat thanks for telling me."

Wheat looked at him suspiciously. "Ya alright me saying no?"

"Yep."

Wheat drew himself up. "Why? D'ya not want me on this job? 'Cos …"

"I told ya. If we don't ALL agree we don't do this."

"So ya ain't doing it 'cos of me?"

"Not entirely no."

Wheat hesitated. "Who else said no then?"

"I ain't saying. That's between them an' me."

Wheat grunted. He turned to leave. "So it's off then?"

"Looks that way."

Kyle was next.

"Heyes I done thought it over. An' I reckon we oughta do it."

"No Kyle." Heyes smiled at the enthusiasm.

"Oh."

Kyle didn't say anymore. He just went.

There was still one person Heyes hadn't seen. It wasn't until early evening that the Kid finally came back to the leader's cabin. Heyes looked up from the sofa where he lay reading.

"Where have you been all day?"

"Out riding. An' thinking."

Heyes sniffed. "Thought we had an agreement on that."

Heyes didn't protest as the Kid plucked the book from his hands. He just looked up at him.

"We need to talk."

Heyes nodded and sat up.

"How bad d'ya wanna do this job Heyes?"

"Well it's an opportunity …"

"Every job is an opportunity."

Heyes looked at him patiently.

"Have the boys been in to talk to ya?"

"Yep."

"And?"

Heyes looked innocent. "And what?"

"What did they say?"

"Ain't saying. That's between them an' me. I gave my word."

The Kid gave him the look.

"I know how they all feel now. How 'bout you, Kid?"

The Kid sighed. "I dunno. I know there's more work to do in the planning but I jus' think it's too grandiose."

Heyes smiled fondly at the Kid.

"So ya saying ya don't wanna do it?"

"Yeah. Sorry Heyes. Not that I don't think ya smart enough to get it all figured out but … Now what ya grinning at?"

"Thank ya Kid. I'll take that as a compliment." Heyes got up and slapped the Kid on the arm. "C'mon let's go across to the bunkhouse and tell the boys it's a no-go."

The Kid grinned and got up. "Mebbe we can have ourselves a celebration? To the job we didn't do."

Heyes laughed. "Yeah. The one that got away."

As they went out, Heyes had a smirk on his face. Was he glad that was over! For a while, last night he thought they would do the job. The next time the gold bullion train from the Denver Mint came up; he figured the Gang would think twice. Which is exactly what he wanted all along. As for the "gold" ingot – well you never know when you might need one!


End file.
